


Cas vs the Impala

by Shrinkynatural



Series: Versus Series [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s05e06 I Believe The Children Are Our Future, Gen, Shrinking, tiny!Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-29
Updated: 2013-07-29
Packaged: 2017-12-21 18:21:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/903398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shrinkynatural/pseuds/Shrinkynatural
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Immediately post 5x06. Small fic part where Jesse the anti-Christ's mojo doesn't wear off completely. Cas isn't plastic anymore, but he's still action figure-sized.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cas vs the Impala

"I'm not your toy. I'm an angel, you should show me some respect!" Castiel shouted up at Dean as he smacked away the giant hand that had reached for him like he was still the plastic figure he'd been just moments ago.

"Hey!" Dean grumbled back, shaking his hand. It was a little demoralizing that Castiel's unchecked strength resulted in nothing more than a _sting_ , but it got the message across. "Cas, we need to get outta here, and unless those wings of yours are still working that means you ride on the Winchester Express."

He glared up at Dean in response to his glib attitude and readied himself to prove that he _could_ still fly, thank you very much. He wouldn't go far, just far enough to prove his point. However, the moment where his surroundings should've changed didn't come and Castiel was still in front of Dean. Frowning, he tried again but picked a closer spot just a few yards down the mantel.

"Okay, okay, stop it! You look like you need to poop, for crying out loud!" Dean grouched. His hand came up again, but this time he held it out flat at Castiel's feet. "Just...climb on. You can try working your mojo later when we're in a motel room _far, far away._ "

Castiel glowered at the wide palm and opened his mouth to argue when Sam hurried over. Even taller than his brother, Sam's loud, lumbering form gave Castiel an uneasy feeling. _He_ was the one with a form the size of city skyscrapers, it shouldn't be this way.

"I think I heard someone moving around upstairs," Sam explained, looking at the both of them. "We really have to go."

Dean nodded. "That settles it then. Off we go!" And before Castiel could react Dean's other hand came around and pushed him into the waiting palm. He started shouting every curse he could think of in every human language, but all were ignored as he was quickly deposited headfirst into the cramped outer pocket of Dean's jacket.

Everything lurched around him as the brothers rushed out of the house, the jostling only getting worse as Dean no doubt started a jog to get to the Impala. Castiel squirmed around in his prison until he managed to get into a sitting position. He tried to stand but a sudden shift followed by the sound of a car door slamming had him falling back. Human insults were entirely useless to convey his displeasure and he let out a stream of biting Enochian instead.

At least now that Dean stopped moving Castiel could try to stand again. He could hear the growl of the car's engine as it turned over and the shifting gears as Dean quickly drove away from the house. Sam had started talking, mostly about needing to stop and grab their stuff but waiting to call Bobby with the anti-Christ news until they were on the road again. Then Dean turned on the radio and the loud beats of his preferred music pounded their way into Castiel's skull. It was annoying and grating, all this noise.

Once on his feet and somewhat steady, Castiel tried pounding his fists on the side of the pocket facing Dean to get his attention. He was unsuccessful, the layers of Dean's clothing absorbing his pathetic attempts. "Dean!" he hollered, tilting his head back to look up at the thin strip of light peeking through the flap over the pocket. "Dean!"

There was still no response. The combined noise of the car, the radio, and Sam's unnecessarily loud voice easily drowned him out. Castiel let out a frustrated sigh and instead focused his attention on the top of the pocket. It wasn't very far, just within reach of his fingertips when he stretched his arms out above him. He curled his fingers over the material and jumped, successfully hooking his elbows over it so he wouldn't fall back down. The flap rested over his head but he could easily see the disturbingly wide expanse of the Impala, including Dean's legs below him and Sam's immense form off to the side.

He tried yelling Dean's name again and then Sam's, but they were immersed in their own conversation. Castiel only dimly appreciated their discussion of Jesse's whereabouts as he was unsure how else he could return to his normal size. As soon as he could get their attention, however, he was setting some ground rules so he wouldn't continue to be so rudely ignored.

Castiel clutched the pocket tightly and swung a leg over, ready to begin his climb to Dean's neck where he'd be able to hit Dean and make him _feel_ it. He reached out with one hand to grab the part of the shirt right next to him when a harsh jolt caused him to lose his grip. Castiel unfortunately fell _out_ instead of back into the pocket, bouncing off Dean's thigh and ending up in the small gap right between his legs. He felt dazed but not injured, and he immediately got up to see if his fall had been noticed.

Going with Castiel's current unlucky streak, Dean had his attention somewhere else completely. "Son of a bitch! Fucking potholes, they need to get someone out here to fill these things in!" he yelled, smacking the steering wheel and then crooning to the car and apologizing.

"Maybe if you slowed down and paid attention to where you were going..." Sam replied, his own attention out the window.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought we were in a hurry to get away from anti-Christ ground zero," Dean huffed, sitting back in his seat and shifting so he was comfortable again.

Dean didn't move much, but Castiel was still unpleasantly bumped and shoved until Dean settled. He didn't want to think where he would've ended up if he'd still been on his back. As it was, he managed to stay on his feet and started to form his next plan. The jean-covered legs on either side of him weren't the ideal place to be, but only one coarse layer meant that it should be relatively easy to get Dean's attention. Castiel had no desire to climb over the massive thigh and trek over to Sam.

He smacked his hand down on Dean's thigh twice, keeping an eye on the distant face in the sky for any recognition. The legs shifted again just slightly which was more than Castiel expected even if Dean's eyes stayed forward on the road. He hit Dean again and this time a hand came down from the steering wheel to scratch at the area. Castiel jumped back on instinct before realizing his error and hurrying forward to hit the hand, but it was already lifting back up and out of reach. Still, it had happened once and could happen again, so Castiel hit Dean as hard as he could a few more times.

"The hell," came a muttered curse above him and Castiel waited ready. His eyes were fixed on Dean's hand so he didn't notice when Dean's other thigh moved behind him and crashed right into him, throwing him across the thigh he'd been abusing and pressing him insistently into it. Then there was the rubbing, almost grinding Castiel's face against the jean material.

"What's up with you?" he could hear Sam ask over the rasp of cloth.

"I'm itching like hell is what's up," Dean replied, the rubbing continuing for another moment before his legs parted with a satisfied grunt. Castiel fell to his knees with an unheard groan. "You didn't put any of that itching powder in my clothes, did you?"

"You mean the itching powder that was _literally_ making people scratch their brains out?" Sam drawled out sarcastically. "Yes, yes I did."

Castiel shook his head to clear it and clenched his jaw. This was getting worse and worse by the second. At least his vessel was still as durable as ever in his diminished size, and that thought gave him the determination to stand and try again. He _would_ be acknowledged, even if he had to hit Dean's leg until they got to the motel.

"Fucking--! Seriously, Sam, something's irritating the crap out of me!" Dean shouted, squirming in his seat and sending Castiel back and forth again.

"You're such a baby," Sam laughed. "I swear I didn't put any--holy shit, it's Cas!" Castiel looked up just in time to see Sam leaning over and looking right at him before Dean's thigh crashed into him once more. "Stop moving!"

" _What?_ " Dean demanded in a higher, surprised voice, failing to do that just that. He tried to jump out of his seat on reflex, the car swerving and sending Castiel face first onto the seat before Dean's leg came slamming down on top of him.

"You're going to crush him!" Sam yelled, then, "Watch the road, just watch the damn road!"

Castiel felt something ram his side and then nudge under him, pressing him even more into Dean's leg. He only had a brief moment to think _fingers_ before they wrapped around him and dragged him away. They tightened on him as the car swerved again and he could hear angry swearing between the brothers before the movement stopped completely and the engine died. The music went with it and Castiel had three seconds of blissful silence before Sam's fingers lifted away from him and two giant faces peered down at him.

Dean was the first to speak. "Cas, what the hell! What were you doing out of my pocket? _This_ is why you were supposed to stay there! I could've killed you!"

"Dean! Yell later," Sam scolded before giving Castiel a concerned look. " _Are_ you okay? I mean, you're not all mushed and I don't see any blood."

"I'm fine!" Castiel assured them, pushing himself into a sitting position. He gave the both of them a disgruntled frown. "I wanted to ask you to turn the radio off. You couldn't hear me because everything was too _loud._ "

Sam's mouth fell open and he did what Dean referred to as 'the damn puppy eyes.' "We're so sorry, Cas. I told you that you play your music too loud, Dean!"

"He's never complained before! How was I supposed to know?" Dean demanded, but he had a similar look on his own face. "It'll stay off the rest of the ride, we're almost there anyway. Sam, hold onto Cas until we get there."

Sam leaned back in his seat, bringing his other hand up so Castiel was cupped in his palms. "This is unnecessary!" Castiel protested, tapping his fist on one of Sam's thumbs to keep his attention.

"It's really not," Sam countered. "This way if you need anything you can let me know. Once we get to the motel we can figure out something better."

"Like maybe get you a tiny megaphone or something," Dean added, restarting the car and pulling back out onto the road.


End file.
